


damned

by brbabe



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Church Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Priest Kink, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 20:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17189900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brbabe/pseuds/brbabe
Summary: “I'm sorry daddy, I've been naughty.”Jongdae sighs, hands gripping his thighs. “How many times do I have to tell you, it's forgive me Father–”“For I have sinned.” Minseok completes, Jongdae can hear the smile in his voice. “But it's funnier my way.”





	damned

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry.

Jongdae trips, cursing lowly and reprimanding himself for it seconds after, the lights in the street and the thin layer of snow sticking to the ground can be beautiful, but Jongdae knows they are dangerous. Always making it look like nothing could go wrong and then you blink and your butt hits the cold ground.

He fastens his thick jacket around his body as he walks faster, seeking the warmth inside the church's walls, the cross hanging around his neck pins itself against his sternum.

Jongdae is running late, but that's what the head of the church gets for calling him in the last minute. Of course, Jongdae knows that Mr. Kim would never call him if he wasn't needed, but Jongdae was already comfortable in his bed when he received the call. Turning the corner, he sees the church lights and sighs, fingertips itching to get away from the cold.

It's Christmas. The church is offering shelter and warm soup in what seems to be the coldest night of the year so the place is packed, there's a long line of people in the stairs, protecting themselves from the cold as much as they can while waiting for their turn.

As he slows down, trying to find a way in between all the bodies, he bows to them, hugs one or two kids. It's a small town, the devoted population has a connection with their priest or so they seem to think they do.

In the middle of the sea of people, he catches sight of a vibrant red hair. His blood freezes in his veins. _He_ shouldn't be there, and Jongdae is sure _he_ knows that.

“Jongdae! Thank you so much for coming!” Kim says, pulling Jongdae into a warm hug. He smells like candles.

When he shouts Jongdae's name, the devil turns his head and looks directly at him. He winks and Jongdae's face heats up. He forces a smile out.

“No need to thank me. I am always glad to help.” He says, “What do you need me to do?”

Kim smiles. “The usual. Serve the people some soup, give the people some warm words. I don't think much of them are going to stick around to confession time anyways.”

Jongdae nods. He feels the devil's eyes burning into the skin of his nape. He wants to tell him to stop, to leave. Nothing good comes out from his visit.

“Okay! I can do that. I can stay for confession time too, since it's going to be only a few people.”

“Oh no, I can't ask you to do my job.”

“You have a family to be with. Come on, sir. I will be happy. Think of it as a Christmas gift.”

Mr. Kim's eyes are warm and grateful when he smiles at Jongdae. A pang of guilty hits Jongdae, then. He's not doing it out of the goodness of his heart, he's not doing it because he's such a _good_ young man, kind and righteous.

Jongdae knows why he's offering to stay behind.

And he knows he's doomed for it.

Mr. Kim leaves him by himself, drowning in his shame and guilty, a little bit of fear and lots, lots of lust. He takes a deep breath and goes to see where his help is most needed, quickly putting on his apron. Pouring soup is a good thing to do, but useless to refrain Jongdae's mind from creating scenarios his church would excommunicate him for.

The manual task was useless to stop Jongdae's eyes from searching for him in the crowd. And it was terribly frustrating that Jongdae always seemed to find him, no matter how many people there is.

Minseok is leaning against the stairs railing, leather jacket in place as it always is, he's using fingerless gloves to show off the diverse rings adorning his beautiful hands.

There's a smiling playing on his lips as he looks back to Jongdae and winks at him again, like the sly jerk that he is. He makes a come hither motion and Jongdae scoffs, trying not to let it show through how much strength he has to put in not to go. Jongdae keeps serving the soup, blessing whoever it is who asks for a blessing. _Merry Christmas, God loves you, yes, this is all for free._

He busies himself with listening and giving encouraging words for those who are in great need, doesn't let his mind or eyes wander to Minseok and his pretty hands. “The line is getting shorter.” The old woman by his side says aloud, humming.

“Yes, that's good, eh?”

The lady nods. “You will be the one responsible for confession time tonight, Father?”

Jongdae nods. “Mr. Kim has worked hard enough.”

She nods again. “You are such an incredible young man, Father. Your parents must be proud.”

“They are. Thank you.” He swallows as he notices one of the altar boys rearranging the line for  confession. Minseok finally detaches himself from the stairs and follows the crowd into the church, Jongdae's eyes follow him.

No good. No good ever comes with Minseok.

Jongdae remembers very well the first time he ever listened to Minseok. It seemed like the older man knew him in such ways Jongdae never thought anyone would actually be able to. At first it felt like Minseok was really the devil, knowing exactly what to say and how to say it so every word coming out of his lips would make a mess of Jongdae.

The way his voice sounded soft and sweet even when all that he was saying was explicitly _filthy._ It wasn't fair at all. To this day Jongdae doesn't understand how it all happened. How in one week he was keeping his inner demons in total control and then the next he was slipping a hand into his pants to relieve the madness inside him.

Minseok was dangerous, dangerous. Jongdae should keep his distance for his own good.

He makes his way inside the church, the place is decorated for Christmas, but not in a capitalistic manner. Just the usual lights and an even bigger cross right in the middle.

Jongdae always thought the church was beautiful even if a little small, the ceilings were high and of a golden colour that always made it look shiny. The walls were filled with big windows that always let the sun rays come in during morning mass. And by the night, the big chandelier in the middle of the room worked well to illuminate the place. It always felt comfortable to be there.

Always, that is, until he met Minseok.

Inside the confessional, Jongdae takes off his warm jacket, sliding a hand on his cassock trying to smooth the fabric. A hand goes through his hair, too, but that's just his nerves talking. Mr. Kim was right, not many  people stayed behind for confession time, which unties the knot on Jongdae's chest a little.

When it starts, Jongdae slips easily into his character, after all, he's always been a good priest. The best, most correct and loving young priest the church has ever seen or at least that's what the old ladies say, how they are sorry that priests can't get married because _i have a daughter, a niece, a sister or a granddaughter you would love to meet._

Not listening to the confessions are bottom three in the long list of Jongdae's wrongdoings but he can't be bothered to pay attention, his anxiety is eating him alive, and there's so much even a priest can take of the same old confessions: cheating, excessive jealousy, alcoholism, sex before marriage, cheating, more alcohol, maybe a little bit of marijuana. It's a small town, there's only so much sins they can commit.

He gives them all more or less of the same sacred penances, he knows half of them aren't going to follow through with any penances, and the other half is going to be in line next time with the same confessions. They think by confessing they will be absolved of their sins and get a green card to sin again.

His hands are sweating and his heart is roaring when the last man – an alcoholic cheater – leaves and it's been an hour since Jongdae started, he can feel the tension on his shoulders and on his neck. All the discomfort vanishes when Minseok sits across from the confessional stall. Jongdae knows it's him because he is always the last, and because Jongdae would recognize his smell anywhere.

There's only one lamp in the confessional and the light is so low Jongdae can barely really _see_ , and he's grateful for it because resisting Minseok would be a thousand times more difficult if Jongdae had to say _no_ looking at his face. Not that, in anyway, Jongdae succeeds.

“I'm sorry daddy, I've been naughty.”

Jongdae sighs, hands gripping his thighs. “How many times do I have to tell you, it's forgive me Father–”

“For I have sinned.” Minseok completes, Jongdae can hear the smile in his voice. “But it's funnier my way.”

“I distinctly remember telling you not to come back here.”

Minseok snickers “Was I supposed to take you seriously?” He sounds amused. “Was I supposed to believe you didn't want me to come back?”

“I only want you to come back if your intention is to reconcile with God.”

“Of course. For that to happen I would have to…?” He prompts.

Jongdae clears his throat. “Repent from your sins. Distance yourself from what makes you distant from God.”

Minseok hums. “There are so many sins I wouldn't be able to distance myself from. Do you want to know them, Daddy?”

“Minseok.”

“Isn't that your job?” Minseok presses. “Listen to other people's sins? Judge them from where you sit on that throne of yours?”

“I don't judge. I am as much of a sinner as you.”

“And I know that.” He says. “I know you.”

Jongdae bites his tongue.

“I fingered myself, Father, thinking of you.” Minseok starts. “I do it all the time, because I want you so much. I did it a few hours ago, before coming here. You look so, so good with that black vest.”

“It's called–”

“I know what it is called.” He interrupts. “I like it on you. Makes you look so serious, responsible. I like your blonde hair, Father, I want to know how it feels to have my fingers on it.”

“Please, you have to stop.”

“I like the sound of you begging, but I don't think the right sentence ends with a “stop”. You want me, Father. I have seen the way you look at me.”

“I can't have you.” Jongdae says. “You know that.”

“But you want to. Tell me, Father. Tell me you want me.”

Jongdae's hands are drenched in sweat, the confessional suddenly feels too small, too warm. Jongdae wants him. Minseok knows this, Jongdae knows this.

He wants to say it.

“You are insufferable.” He says, instead.

“You want me.” Minseok laughs. “Its cute that you still try to deny when I have heard to you jacking off before.”

“That was mistake.”

“But wasn't it fun?”

It was, and Jongdae felt more alive than ever, felt the blood in his veins and felt his heart beating faster, faster until all he could think about was Minseok. His voice and his smell and how much Jongdae wanted to put his mouth on him.

“Minseok, I beg you to leave me alone.”

“Then beg.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes. “Why did you come?”

“Because last time left me hungry for more.”

“Last time was a mistake and it won't happen again.”

Jongdae is pathetic, his words sounds empty to his own ears.

When he got home after last time he felt so much guilty, – even considered succumbing to the old physical punishments the church used to give centuries ago – but the emotion he felt the most was _lust._ He knows what Minseok means by saying he needed more.

Masturbating inside the confessional while Minseok's words brought him to edge was _good, b_ ut having Minseok closer to him, where he could touch and taste… it would be greater than anything else. Jongdae doesn't think heaven will feel as good as Minseok's skin.

“Why are you making us lose precious time?” Minseok says, he sounds slightly annoyed.

“Because I need to pretend I resisted. Even if just for a little second.” He says, and then the _click_ echoes in the darkness as Jongdae unlocks the small door to the confessional. “Come.”

Minseok's face doesn't need to be lighted for Jongdae to be sure there's a smirk plastered on it. He has waited long enough, it was bound to happen. There's absolutely nothing he can do to stop himself from getting into this mess with Minseok.

He can't run, he can't hide, he can't ignore and he _clearly_ can't resist it. Might as well enjoy the ride to hell.

“It was about time.” Minseok whispers, his voice drops with lust and it incinerates Jongdae's whole body. No one ever wanted him this much. No one ever wanted him, _period._ But Minseok does, so much. Jongdae can't wrap his head around this desire, but he doesn't have to think about it for longer because Minseok drops to his knee and his hands find Jongdae's thighs in the dim light and pushes them apart, fitting in between his legs.

Jongdae blinks, in this position the light finally catches Minseok's semblant. “You look far too much like an angel to be this vile.”

Minseok laughs prettily, squeezing Jongdae's thighs with such strength, rings pressing against his skin, Jongdae hisses in discomfort. “Are there no angels in Hell?”

“Yeah,” Jongdae murmurs, hand coming to stroke Minseok's jawline. “They all look like you.”

“Help me undo this,” He says, fidgeting with Jongdae's belt. “I like the fact that young priests like to wear skinny jeans instead of that costume.”

Jongdae lets his undo his belt by himself, relaxing against the wall. “It's not a costume, it's a sacred garment.”

Minseok rolls his eyes, hands coming to unbutton Jongdae's jeans instead of engaging himself with another discussion. Jongdae slides his feet even more apart so he can give Minseok more space.

“You are half hard already.”

“I can't believe.” Jongdae says, sarcastically.

“Yes, be mean to the person who's about to have your dick inside their mouth.”

Jongdae makes a “zip” motion as he puts his hips up so Minseok can pull his jeans down his thighs. Minseok's fingertips are cold against Jongdae's skin, it makes him shiver.

“Better.” Minseok says, his breath fanning over Jongdae's dick. He latches himself onto the untainted skin of Jongdae's inner thigh, sucking a mark that was sure to bruise in the aftermath and all Jongdae could do was let his head fall on the wall behind him, a silent plea for more on his lips. He threads his fingers through Minseok's colourful hair, subconsciously directing his head towards his cock feeling a rippling desire to have Minseok's lips around him for the first time.

“Look, you get hard so quickly for me.” He says, hands jacking off Jongdae slowly.

“Hurry up.” Jongdae chokes out.

Minseok's lips wraps around his cock and Jongdae brings his hand to his mouth, biting on it to muffle the moan that threatens to come out. It's filthy, the way his cock is nestled on the tip of Minseok's tongue.

He looks so beautiful, his mouth looks _sinful_ with the way it stretches around Jongdae's cock and he is so good in the way he sucks on it and swallows around it like he has done it a zillion times before – and he probably did.

For a second there Jongdae's brain screams at him to push Minseok away, to stop this madness and to never bat an eye on his way again but as quick as it comes, it goes. Jongdae is tired of pretending.

“So good, so good.” He whispers, drooling a little. Minseok simply swallows Jondae further, seems to put on more effort as he realizes Jongdae is having fun.

He takes him down the next few inches left, getting Jongdae's cock down his throat completely. Jongdae's mind is fuzzy and all he can sense around him is the inside of Minseok's mouth, _wet warm soft_. Jongdae doesn't care about where he is or who he is now, he only cares about getting his cock deeper.

Minseok deepthroats him effortlessly, moaning lowly around him. He pulls off just to tongue at the slit of Jongdae's dick, savouring his taste. Jongdae whimpers, hands coming to hold Minseok's head, his hair is so soft and smells so good. The whole confessional smells like sex and _flowers_ because of him.

“Minseok.” He groans. “Please.”

“It's okay, Father, I’m merciful.” And he sucks Jongdae into his mouth again, hollowing his cheeks like his number one priority is to suck Jongdae dry. Grazing his teeth along Jongdae's side veins, he moans so loud Jongdae's heart stops for a second in fear of being heard but nothing happens and he lets his head fall to the wall again as Minseok sucks him hard until he's coming down his throat.

Jongdae stays with his eyes closed for a few seconds until he hears Minseok getting up. When he opens his eyes Minseok is jerking himself off quickly like he's going to die if he doesn't come.

Minseok whines prettily and Jongdae slides on his seat until his face is leveled with Minseok's pretty dick: mouth open, tongue out.

“Jongdae-ah.” Minseok mutters as he cums, and Jongdae swallows what he manages to get into his mouth and basks in the feeling of the tiny droplets that hit his jaw.

They stay still for a whole minute after. Jongdae cleans himself with the inside fabric or his jacket and Minseok buttons up his jeans for him. “Next time we should go back to my place. It's more comfortable…” He trails off.

And he sounds unsure, like he's expecting Jongdae to pull up his defence walls again but instead Jongdae looks up at him and smiles. “I would love that.”

 _Forgive me God,_ Jongdae thinks, _for I have sinned and I have loved every second of it._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
